


His Sister's Keeper

by eb18490



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eb18490/pseuds/eb18490
Summary: “I trust you with all my being. Keep her safe. Keep her close. Do not let them get to her.”This is the story you guys wanted me to continue.





	1. The Story Unfolds

_ “I need you to take care of her.” He told the other man, sliding the drugged and unconscious body of his teenage sister into his arms. “I need you to promise.” _

_ The taller man nodded, his jaw clenched. _

_ “Don’t let them get her. I’m trusting you. She has been the only thing to make me want to fight. But they’ve found us. Found her. I’m afraid for her life.” The girl’s brother said. _

_ “Does she know yet?” _

_ “No; not yet. I was going to tell her when the time was right, but now that’s up to you.” _

_ Both men looked up as loud crashes ensued outside the apartment building. _

_ “I trust you with all my being. Keep her safe. Keep her close. Do not let them get to her.” _

_ The girl’s brother let go of her limp hand and fled the apartment building, becoming one with the night. _


	2. The Secrets You've Been Keeping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first actual chapter. Enjoy, and please leave a comment!

She slowly regained consciousness, noting how springs seemed to press into her back, making her uncomfortable.

“Good. You’re awake.”

The voice startled her slightly. It was not her brother’s.

She opened her eyes, squinting slightly at the soft glow on one side of the room.

There was a man there, on a barstool. He was reading an impossibly thick book, his body half turned to her.

He was at a kitchen island, three lights in the ceiling shining just softly enough to illuminate the kitchen and some of the living room.

She sat up slowly, noticing how her head spun slightly. Whatever Bellamy had stabbed into her neck before sure was strong.

“Who are you?” She asked.

The man didn’t look up from his book, instead flipping a page and pursing his lips.

“I’m Lincoln.” He said finally.

What was she doing on this man’s couch? And where was Bellamy?

“I- I’m Octavia.” She managed.

“I know.”

“How long was I out?”

“Around a day. Surprisingly long."

She’d never even heard of this man Lincoln. How did he know her name?

“How- How do you-?” Octavia ran her hands quickly through her hair, smoothing down her probable bed head.

Lincoln reached over to the island’s counter, taking a bookmark and placing it into the book.

Octavia watched as he put the book on the counter and got up, walking over to the couch.

Lincoln seemed impossibly tall and fit, compared to Octavia’s 5’6.

“Your brother brought you here. You’ll be staying indefinitely.”

There was no way this could be happening. Hadn’t Bellamy always said he’d always take care of her? Where was he? Why was she even here, with this stranger?

Her hands went clammy, and she wiped them off on her jeans.

“Why?” She could feel tears just begging to be let out.

Lincoln sighed, sitting next to her on the couch, but she moved away, not sure if she should trust him.

“There’s no easy way to say this…”

“Oh my God, is Bellamy okay?”

This time one tear worked its way out of the corner of her right eye, sliding down her cheek.

She could taste the faint traces of salt as the tear came to a stop just on her lower lip.

“I’m not sur- I mean, yes, last time I saw him.”

“Thank God.” She sighed, but noticed that she was shaking. Nerves would not get the best of her right now. They couldn’t. Not yet.

“Okay.” Lincoln continued. “Bellamy brought you here to protect you.”

“Against what? I’m safe. I never even look out the peephole in the front door!”

It was true. Bellamy had kept her safe. _Never answer the door, don’t look outside. Trust me._

“The demons.”

“You’re crazy. Whatever that book was, it must have gone to your head.”

Lincoln shook his head in a subtle movement that wouldn’t have been detected had Octavia not been staring gravely at him.

Lincoln got up off the couch, walking over to the kitchen, and opening a drawer.

Octavia couldn’t see what he was taking out, but as he closed the drawer she could see it was a knife.

She moved to jump off the couch. There was a pretty good chance that this guy was a serial killer, and that the next five minutes would end up with her blood splattered all over the floor.

“Relax.” Lincoln said, walking back over to the couch.

“Isn’t that what happens in the movies?” Octavia asked, heart pounding frantically in her chest.

“I’m not going to kill you. I promise. I swear.”

Lincoln sat down next to her again on the couch, and she could see him lifting the knife up. “There are… some people in the world; rarities, they are sent to battle and destroy the demons. They can contact each other merely through thoughts, and can manipulate more than the human eye can ever begin to imagine.”

“I don’t believe you.” Octavia said.

“You have silver blood.” Lincoln said matter of factly.

Octavia could feel the blood draining from her face. “How- how do you know?”

“There’s blue bloods. We battle demons.”

“We?”

“I’m a blue blood.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Lincoln held the knife up to the palm of his hand, the blade catching the light and shining as it was moved.

Octavia could see him grimace as he held the knife right above his palm.

“Don’t do it.” She told him, putting her hand on his wrist. “I believe you."

The truth was, it was making her queazy to think that blood would be spilling out of his hand in a second.

“Okay.” He lowered the knife, placing it on the arm of the couch.

"There’s nightblidas.” Lincoln continued. "They have black blood. There’s only a few; they organize battles and also hunt the demons.

Then there’s the silver blooded.” He told her. “As rare as they come. Only born every few generations, two in the last 200 years. None in the last century. They’re the most powerful of the three types. The demons hunt them; they can practically sniff them out.”

“Why?”

“One of their parents is a demon. Your father-“

That was the last she heard before she passed out, her heart rapidly beating much faster than it should, in fear and terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does Lincoln know all this? (His secrecy is going to destroy very important things in later chapters.)


	3. I'd Never Want To Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story writing process is going to take a long time, unfortunately. I've just got so much going on lately. Hope you like this chapter, though.

Octavia woke up, eerily mostly in the same way as before.

Although, this time Lincoln was next to her on the couch. He was still reading his book, which was resting on his lap, supported by both his hands.

Octavia's head was pounding, making her vision swim and she rubbed her eyes, willing the blurriness away.

It went.

Her father was a demon. She was half demon.

She was getting the hell out of there.

Octavia hurled herself off the couch, feet hitting the floor with a loud thump.

She ran to the door, Lincoln only then registering was happening.

Octavia flung the door open, squinting at the bright lights of the hallway.

Which way was she supposed to run?

She went left, almost tripping on the carpeted floors as she ran towards the elevator.

She could hear Lincoln behind her, cursing as he tripped over something.

She slammed her hand into the elevator buttons, grimacing at the burning in her fingers as they hit the wall.

Come on, come on. The elevator was so damn slow and she read the screen. Going up, Going up.

The doors opened and she got in, frantically pressing the button for the lobby.

She had to get out of here. This was all a dream. She was fine. Silver blood was perfectly natural. This was a nightmare, and Bellamy would wake her up at any second to tell her it was happening again.

Whoever Lincoln was, he was a figment of her imagination. An unusual figment, but still one at that.

The doors to the elevator closed when a hand slid through, prying them back open.

No.

She frantically pressed the door close button, but the door opened quicker than she expected.

“Let me go! Let me go, please!” She shouted. “I just want to go home!”

Lincoln finished prying the door open and grabbed her wrist. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Please! I want to go!”

“Octavia, come. It’s not safe.”

“Let me go!” She struggled against him, trying to pull her arm away.

“Your brother told me to take care of you. I’m trying to keep you safe. Please, Octavia.”

“I just want to leave.” She sobbed, saltwater tears flowing down her cheeks and past her lips.

“Is everything okay?” She heard a voice down the corridor. It was the voice of a man, deep and booming.

She began to hear footsteps coming closer.

“Everything’s fine.” Lincoln called out. “Come on, Octavia.” He whispered.

“Are you sure?” The man asked.

“Quite.” Lincoln gave Octavia’s arm a weak tug and she finally gave in, allowing him to lead her back to the apartment.

They passed the man but Octavia could feel his eyes boring into her back as they walked.

Lincoln led her back into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind them.

“Please.” Octavia begged him.

“I promised your brother. I will not go back on that promise.” Lincoln said.

“You’re supposed to kill the demons, aren’t you. You’re supposed to kill me.” She muttered, wiping her tears from her eyes with her sleeve.

“No. I can’t kill the silver blooded.” Said Lincoln. “The silver blooded, they need- they need them. There’s a legacy, that the silver blooded will kill the demons. We need you.”

“Who needs me? Bellamy didn’t need me, he left me here with you.”

“Because he couldn’t protect you. Some blue bloods are stronger than others, that’s why he brought you to me.”

“If I’m supposed to defeat the demons, why was I kept in my apartment for more than seventeen years?” She asked, trying to keep herself from yelling.

“If I’m supposed to train a girl to defeat the demons, why was I getting ready to defeat them myself for my twenty two years? Why does that stupid prediction not include me?”

“Because no one knew I existed.” Octavia replied simply.

Lincoln sighed, shaking his head.

“What are the demons, anyway?” Octavia tilted her head and crossed her legs on the couch.

“They’re like us, mostly. But much more powerful. They know what we’re doing before we do it. They don’t bleed. It’s incredibly hard to kill them.”

“Can you die? I mean, what do you call yourselves?”

“We call ourselves Grounders. Some are from Arkadia, some from Trikru. Depends on the area. I’m from Trikru. You’d be from Arkadia.” Lincoln informed her. “And yes, we can die. It’s complicated. With a gunshot wound or a stab, we can bleed out and die, but if we’re careful we don’t age very much and can live forever.”

There was no way all this was true.

“I’m dreaming, right? This is all a dream.” Octavia said, pinching her left forearm.

_I’m going to wake up in a few moments and I’m going to be in my bed and under the covers, not on this couch and certainly not in this apartment._ She thought.

_I can assure you, you’re not dreaming._ She heard.

Octavia jumped, startled. It was not her thinking, but someone else’s, and it sounded like Lincoln’s, but how? How was that even possible?

“I told you. We can communicate. We can manipulate. You are really, truly awake.”

“So I’m a silver blooded half demon. And you and my brother are blue-blooded Grounders. And I have weird powers. And I’m supposed to kill the demons.”

“Yes.” Lincoln nodded. “Your brother is a blue blood."

“What time is it? I’m starving.” Octavia said, out of the blue.

“It’s almost two in the morning. You like sandwiches?”

“Sure.”

Lincoln left the couch, heading over to the kitchen and placing the knife in the sink.

Octavia watched as Lincoln pulled out plates and bread, and brought two sandwiches over.

“I hope you like cheese. That’s all that’s in the fridge.” Lincoln apologized.

“That’s okay.” Octavia accepted her sandwich, tasting the american cheese. Not her favorite, but it was okay.

Both her and Lincoln ate in silence, placing their plates in the sink.

“I’ll make the bed.” Lincoln told her.

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“On the couch.”

“It's not comfortable.”

“I’ve slept on it on multiple occasions. Very common to stumble in after a battle and not make it to your bed.”

“You already-“ She was cut off by a rapping on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone’s at the door. Someone who’s going to change things. It’s not Lexa, though.


	4. Why Am I Hidden If I Mean So Much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I'm probably going to be kind of slow with the next uploads because I have so much work for school that I don't have any time to write more. (high school, amiright?)  
> I have some oneshots for Halloween though, so expect those at the end of the month!  
> :)

Lincoln’s face paled. “It’s one of them."

“They smell fear.” He said. “They’ll know you’re here. Go into the bedroom. Stay calm.”

Lincoln pointed in the direction of the bedroom. “Under the bed.”

Octavia’s heart was pounding. She ran to the bedroom, diving under the bed.

It was dusty. Evidently no one had been under there in a while, if ever.  Her nose itched.

She could hear a commotion in the living room and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry.

She failed.

There was the sound of something hitting the wall.

Octavia put her face in her palms, attempting to wipe the dust off of her nose.

Something fell against the closed bedroom door and the handle rattled.

She was shaking now, trying hard to control her thoughts. If a demon was there, he’d hear her thoughts. Wouldn’t he.

The door slammed open and she could hear the shout of a woman, and a man, and Lincoln.

Something fell to the floor with a loud thump. A body.

“You can come out now.” A woman’s voice said, sounding slightly breathless. “It’s safe.”

No way was she getting out from under that bed, regardless of the amount of dust.

“Octavia, come out.” Lincoln said. He sounded injured, like he’d had a rib broken. “Don’t let her see-“ He then whispered to Lexa, but Octavia disregarded this statement. She later wished she hadn’t.

Octavia crawled out on her elbows, clouds of dust traveling with her.

She was slightly scared by the woman in the room. Dark hair, dark eye makeup.

_Who are you?_ Octavia thought.

_Leksa kom Trikru._ The woman told her. She spoke in an unfamiliar language, but Octavia found that she could understand it regardless.

The name _Trigedasleng_ appeared in her mind.

Octavia crawled to her feet, dusting herself off with shaking hands.

“I’m a nightblida.” Lexa said.

“What happened?” Octavia asked.

“A demon came. Lincoln tried to fight him off and I was nearby, so I gave him a little assistance. You’re our _strik gona_ , aren’t you?”

Somehow she knew what that meant. _Little warrior_.

“I’m not a warrior. I hid under the bed.” She protested.

“One day.” Lexa put her sword back into its sheath. “I’m needed elsewhere. You’ll have to help Lincoln.”

Without another word, Leksa kom Trikru departed.

Octavia walked out of the bedroom, seeing Lincoln laying on the floor, eyes closed. He was breathing slowly, his breath rattling.

“Are you awake?” Octavia whispered.

“Yes.” Lincoln’s voice was raspy.

“Did the demon hurt you?”

“Head. Hurts. Stop the bleeding.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Octavia said, frantically. Was she supposed to call and get him medical attention?

“Get me to…to the bed.”

He had his hand placed over his forehead, as if trying to stop whatever bleeding was occurring.

Octavia grabbed Lincoln from under his armpits, trying to lift him up. “Can you stand?”

“Fuck… It’s dizzy.”

She had to give Lincoln credit, though. He managed to get himself off the floor, and leaned against Octavia’s shoulder.

She managed to get him to the bed, helping him lay down.

“I’m going to get a washcloth. Clean off the blood.” Octavia told Lincoln.

“Alright.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

Octavia left the room, wiping her sweaty palms on her pant legs.

Cloth. She needed a cloth. Where the heck would that be?

Paper towel. There was a roll of them in the kitchen.

She ripped a few off the roll, placing them under the kitchen faucet for a second.

“I’m coming.” She called to Lincoln. And then, “What did the demon do to you?”

“Give me the paper towel.” Lincoln said, turning slightly so as not to be fully visible. “They like to mess with people. Fight, tease, and then they run like cowards.” Lincoln told her, hissing in pain as he pressed the cloth to his forehead.

“Do they do this often?” Octavia asked with an air of concern.

“Not usually. They like to catch you off guard, in the streets. I mean, at the last fight, I got pretty injured.”

“How so?”

“Broken arm, broken femur. Concussion. They leave the wounded on the side of the road to die.”

“How does no one see any of this?” Octavia questioned, watching Lincoln’s muscles tense as he gently grazed the wound on the side of his head. It had stopped bleeding.

“We tend to heal bad wounds quicker, if we’re still conscious.” Then he answered Octavia’s question. “They do it at night. It usually looks like a gang fight in the morning. Remember, we’re the demon hunters. Regular people never figure things like this out.”

“Will you teach me how to fight?”

“Of course. I will make you the best damn demon hunter on the fucking planet.” He vowed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln’s got something to hide. Keep this in mind. (You could probably figure out what it is just by looking close enough.)
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to comment if you think you know what it is!


	5. When Terror Races Through Your Veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of just a filler chapter. I have a gigantic math test to study for, so I haven't been able to write a whole lot. Anyways, thanks for reading and supporting! :)

Lincoln had fallen asleep shortly after the whole ordeal had happened. Octavia, however, couldn’t go back to sleep. 

Maybe it was the fact that she’d had plenty of sleep in the last couple of days, dozing off on the couch in the living room, or maybe it was the fact that she was still filled with adrenaline from the terror of the demon attacking barely an hour before.

She paced, hearing her socked feet hit the floor with gentle sounds that only she could hear. 

Every few minutes she’d glance into the bedroom to make sure that Lincoln wasn’t dead. She wasn’t sure if people with head injuries were supposed to sleep right after they had gotten them, but she assumed that Lincoln knew what he was doing.

Hopefully.

But then there was the panic coursing through her veins that one of the demons was going to come back and no one except her would be there to fight it. Lexa wouldn't be able to just appear again and help her.

After a while, her eyes started to close, half asleep. 

She was only conscious of the fact that she was walking, not conscious of where she was going when she opened a door and walked into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'm going to publish another chapter for this next week. I have a second part to The Phoenix on my laptop under construction, though...


End file.
